Ashleigh Anpilova


Abby and Tim both know what they want, but they aren't certain how they can get it.

An established relationship story.

Written: January 2009. Word count: 998.



Abby crept into the nursery to stare at her sleeping twins. Despite them being six months old, she still felt such a new mom that she spent hours just watching them sleep. But now she was there to do more than watch them. Now she wanted, she needed, to reassure herself they were alive.


Ignoring the fact she could see their tiny chests rising in what seemed like perfect synchrony, she reached out and put her fingers first to Tommy's lips and then to Benny's, before very lightly sliding them to their necks. She felt the steady pulse beating under her fingers; finally she was reassured.


She sank down between the two cots, draw her knees up to her chin and whispered, "Daddy's okay, boys. Daddy's okay. It was just a scratch. Your uncle Ducky promised me it was just a scratch."


She felt tears well up in her eyes and dashed at them with the back of her hand. Damn it, her hormones were still not back to normal, and for the first time in her life she found herself crying over silly little things. Not that Tim almost - No. It wasn't like that. Ducky had told her that Gibbs had assured him that Tim had never been in any real danger.


But he was. Every single time he took his gun and left the office he was in danger. Of course she knew that something could happen to him even if he wasn't putting on a gun and leaving the office. She knew that. Accidents happened, but . . .


"I wish I could tell him," she whispered. "But I can't. He loves being a field agent so much. I can't ask him to give it up. I can't."




Tim paused for just a fraction of a second outside Autopsy and considered what he was about to do. Then with fierce determination, he moved close enough to the doors for them to whoosh open. As he'd expected Gibbs was with Ducky; he was sitting on the edge of Ducky's desk while Ducky sat in the chair. They both looked Tim's way as he came in.


"Boss, there's something I have to tell you."


Tim watched Gibbs and Ducky glance briefly at one another. "Sure, McGee. My office." Gibbs started to stand up.


"No. Here's fine. I don't mind if Ducky hears. In fact, I'd like him to." He watched Gibbs and Ducky again glance at one another.


"In that case, Timothy, do come and sit down." Ducky moved a pile of files from the chair that stood by the side of his desk and smiled at Tim. "May I offer you a cup of tea?"


Tim blinked. Then noticed that both Gibbs and Ducky were indeed drinking; Ducky from a china mug, Gibbs from his usual Styrofoam coffee cup. "Thank you, Ducky. That'd be good." He waited while Ducky poured him a cup of tea with milk, he didn't even offer sugar. "Thanks." Tim took a sip and then looked at Gibbs. "Boss."




"I've made a decision and you're not going to like it. At least I don't think you're going to like it. And it's not that I want to do it, I don't. And not just for me, but for you. I hate the fact that it'll mean letting you down, boss. But, I'm going to do it. I have to do it. Everything's changed, you see. I don't think I really realized how much until today when . . ." He broke off and glanced down at his bandaged hand. When he looked back up, both Gibbs and Ducky were staring at him.


"You going to tell me what it is, McGee, or do I have to guess?" Gibbs's tone was almost gentle.


"Oh, I'm sorry, boss. I - Boss, I have to give up being a field agent and find a new job." There he'd said it. He waited, but Gibbs said nothing. "I can't risk leaving Abby to bring up Tommy and Benny alone," he said. "I know I could have an accident on the way home or walk under a bus, but . . . I can't take the risk of leaving here day in day out with a gun and - I am sorry, boss. I know the timing isn't great, what with me being your senior field agent, and both Dwayne and Natasha being probies, but . . . I know I've let you down, boss. You gave me a chance all those years ago and this is how I . . . But I'm determined, boss. I have to do this.  I know the director once said if I ever wanted to go back to Cyber Crimes, he'd -"


"You want to?"


"I'd like to stay with NCIS."


"What if there was a way you could stay on my team, as my senior agent, but in a non-field-active capacity?"




"McGee. So many more of the crimes we investigate these days need your other skills; your technical skills. And with Abbs on maternity leave and probably not coming back at all, there's even more of that kind of work for you. I can manage with two active field agents; I did before you came along."


"Are you serious, boss?"


"Have you ever known Jethro not to be serious, Timothy?"


"Well, no, but . . . Will the director allow it?"


Once again Gibbs and Ducky looked at one another. Tim watched them, as he'd watched them many times over the years he'd been on Gibbs's team, communicate with one another without words.


"Oh, do tell him, Jethro. If only to keep your omniscient label fully intact." Ducky smiled.


"Got approval half and hour ago, Tim."


Tim felt his mouth fall open as he stared from Gibbs to Ducky and back again. "But . . . But . . . Boss? How did you . . .?"


Ducky leaned forward and patted Tim's hand. "Why don't you go and call dear Abigail, Timothy, and tell her the good news."


"Boss?" Gibbs nodded. "Thank you, boss," Tim said, standing up. "Thank you." He hurried from Autopsy.



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